


Wish You Were Here

by erinbacon



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:51:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinbacon/pseuds/erinbacon
Summary: Grace is totally lost after Frankie moves to Santa Fe, and doesn’t know how she’s going to go on without her.





	Wish You Were Here

**Author's Note:**

> HEY so I’ve never written a Grace and Frankie fic before so this likely isn’t gonna be brilliant or anything but this fandom is so small and I enjoy writing so I figured that any content we can get at this point is good content!  
> Also a MASSIVE thank you to siennaarae, who wrote the slightly more smutty stuff for me bc I’m so bad in that department. you’re the best!
> 
> This is dedicated to Syd, because like Grace without Frankie, I’d be totally lost without her.
> 
> Anyways I hope you all enjoy it, leave notes n stuff?? (don’t really know how this site works if i’m being honest whoops, i’ll get there in the end)

Grace watches the sunset every day, sitting on the empty beach and gripping Frankie’s chunky necklace that now hangs around her own neck so tightly it hurts. She knows Frankie always loved the way the colors of the setting sun shimmered over the ocean, and it’s the closest she gets to feeling like Frankie’s still with her.

Her best friend had left for Santa Fe six days prior, and Grace had found herself spending less and less time in the beach house until it was almost too painful to go back inside altogether, retreating back to the building she and Frankie called home only when absolutely necessary, and with the numbing haze of a martini or two in her system.

Sitting on the beach was a habit she had formed after the air in the unbearably eerie house had become too intoxicating to stand, and she felt she had to leave before she suffocated entirely.

The house wasn’t at all the same, it was as if the air had shifted the second Frankie had stepped outside of it for the last time. 

Grace squeezed the necklace tighter, the rough edges of the blue and white shell digging into her palms, it was the same necklace Frankie had worn on the day of the hot air balloon ride. Grace had found it the afternoon Frankie had left, after she had aimlessly wandered up to her roommates studio, searching for anything that might make her feel less lonely. It hadn’t worked, and in her haste to leave the room she had stumbled over the necklace and almost fallen flat on her face. She picked it up and had put it on, and was yet to take it off. The minute it settled around her neck she had felt the heft of it weighing her down, and couldn’t help but question how her friend always managed to have such extravagant accessories without developing a permanent neck strain.

Grace let out a sad sigh and tried to shift her position in the sand before her joints expressed their discomfort and she let out a small yelp. She dreaded to think how long she had been seated in the same position down by the shore. She had known it wouldn’t be kind to her ever-aging body, especially her knees, but self-care definitely wasn’t at the top of her priority list.  
She glanced around at the vast stretches of sand either side of her and thought about how lucky she was that their stretch of the beach was almost always empty. She didn’t want to think about how her odd behaviour might seem to other people.

Her mind wandered to the unthinkable question, what would she do with the next chapter of her life? The next chapter that didn’t include Frankie. She had always had a busy life, and it was no different now. She could go on without Frankie, she had been doing it for 70 years before they had moved in with each other. Grace tried not to think about how looking back on that woman, that work-obsessed, independent woman, felt more like looking back at a total stranger.

She no longer recognised that version of herself, it seemed like a different person altogether. But she could go back to that life easily enough. She had her business that she could throw herself into and work at until she was senseless, but it was the business she had created with Frankie.

She had Nick. Cold, desperate Nick who made it almost too easy for Grace. She could throw herself into that relationship, too. But of course Frankie despised Nick, and had called him a soulless corporate monster.

Grace had always had a lot of things in her life. Although now it seemed as though nothing mattered in comparison to Frankie. She had entered Grace’s life at her lowest moment, and brought with her technicolour like Grace had never seen. Everything else was just... small.

Grace glanced longingly at the empty martini glass laying beside her, coated with a light dusting of sand. She had emptied the last of the contents into her stomach and already missed the burning sensation it sent down her throat. She had told herself that she wouldn’t increase her drinking too much in the waking days after Frankie’s departure, remembering the times she had hurt Frankie as a result of the vodka clouding her judgement and restricting her from holding her tongue.  
But any present memory of Frankie was too painful, so she simply pushed them to the back of her mind and drank through the pain regardless. It’s not like Frankie was there to see it, anyway.

Grace had taken to chastising herself every time her mind wandered to her best friend, which was more often than she was willing to admit. It wasn’t the thinking about Frankie that was the worst part for Grace, although that did hurt like hell, but more the questioning herself afterwards.

Questioning why she couldn’t move on from the pain she felt in the absence of her best friend. Grace had seen people come and go from her life plenty of times over the years, and it was no secret that she didn’t have much regard when it came to holding feelings for them. So why was she so distraught about Frankie leaving? Why was it that it hurt more than when Robert told her he wanted a divorce? Why was it that all she wanted to do was hold Frankie in her arms and never again let go, to anchor herself and never again allow herself to feel as low as she did in this moment.

She figured that the less she thought about Frankie, the less she had to deal with the possibility that, maybe, she felt so deeply hurt because she loved Frankie. She loved Frankie more than she had ever loved anybody. She had opened herself up to her, shown her more than she had ever let anybody see, all for her to be abandoned.

There was certainly a level of resentment there for Grace, too. She couldn’t ever imagine leaving Frankie to go and live with Nick. Yet Frankie had up and left Grace and their old life with such ease, and it stung. It stung Grace more than she cared to admit. She felt her eyes well up and immediately cursed herself under her breath for letting herself get lost in her depressing thoughts.

Grace felt her phone vibrate in the sand beside her, and she jumped before wiping a stray tear and picking it up. She saw that the caller ID said Brianna, and felt simultaneous surges of both relief and disappointment that it wasn’t Frankie. She drew in a shaky breath before sliding to answer, and putting the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Mom!” her daughter’s voice boomed down the line.

“Brianna, hi! How are you?” Grace tried to add as much false enthusiasm as she could to her voice, but even she could tell it fell flat.

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m a lot more concerned with how you’re holding up, though.” Brianna answered, evidently not falling for Grace’s facade.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brianna. I’m perfectly fine.” Grace lied. If her daughter picked up on this, she certainly didn’t reveal it.

“Okay, Mom. Well I was just calling to see if you wanted to come for brunch with me and Mal tomorrow?” Brianna questioned.

“Honey I would love to, but I’m just so busy with the business. I’m having to pick up twice as much work now, after all. Not that she used to do much, as it was.” Grace tried to laugh, but again, it fell short.

There was a beat before Brianna responded softly, “We miss her too, Mom.”

Grace froze. She hadn’t wanted the kids, or anyone for that matter, to pick up on her boundless sadness at the absence of her best friend. She needed to seem like the strong Grace Hanson that everyone knew, she couldn’t take the pity from everyone if they knew how much she was really struggling.

The sleepless nights where she replayed all of her memories with Frankie. Trying to figure out if there was anything at all she could’ve done differently in the past 4 years that might have prevented Frankie from leaving La Jolla and the beach house they both once called home.

Grace scoffed before responding, “Honestly Brianna, I don’t know what you’re talking about. All of the work has been so hectic that I haven’t even thought about Frankie once.” Her voice echoed down the phone, and she was met with an eerie silence.

“Okay Mom,” Brianna spoke softly, clearly unconvinced. “Tell us if you need anything, okay? We’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” Grace responded before abruptly hanging up and dropping her phone in the sand beside her, before letting out an exasperated sigh and covering her face.

Several more hours must have passed before Grace finally found the strength to slowly pull herself to her feet, despite her knees angrily protesting, and trudge her way back up to the house. She considered going to bed, but knew that she would be tossing and turning all night, and would never succumb to the aching fatigue she lately seemed to always be feeling.

Instead, she wandered to the kitchen and made herself a martini in a cocktail shaker, not bothering to pour it into a glass. She gulped at her drink whilst staring into space for a long time. She was oblivious to how much time had passed, but she knew it must have been late. Grace was always in bed relatively early, but Frankie was a night owl and would often be up at this hour, claiming it was peaceful. Frankie. Grace was slowly coming to realize that no matter how much alcohol she consumed, she would never be able to drink enough to forget her eccentric roommate. She sighed sadly and, with the help of the vodka buzzing through her veins, she made her way idly to Frankie’s studio.

She entered the room and was immediately hit with the lingering yet unmissable scent of her best friend. No matter how faint the smell now was, it still managed to make Grace come over lightheaded, and she reached out to the wall for support.

Already regretting her decision to come up here, she took in a shaky breath and slowly made her way through the studio. A few of Frankie’s things were still in place, like the sporadic piles of clothing on her bedroom floor. Grace sank down on Frankie’s sofa, but yelped as she felt something hard underneath her. She reached down and pulled out a dirty paintbrush. It was so Frankie-esque that Grace couldn’t help but let out a bubble of laughter, that was quickly followed by a heart-wrenching sob.

She felt the tears begin to spill over her eyes and instinctively curled her knees into her chest. Her body racked forwards as the tears increased and the sobs got louder, showing no signs of stopping. It had been a few nights since Grace had let herself get this upset, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last time, either.

She pulled out her phone, and through the blurred glaze of her tears, managed to click on Frankie’s contact details. And then she started typing. She typed all of the emotions she had felt in the last six days, and all the emotions she had felt towards her best friend prior to then. Of course, Grace knew she could never send this message and risk ruining her friend’s happy new lifestyle for her own selfish reasons. She dropped her phone next to her and wiped her eyes before rolling over and trying to surrender to the exhaustion she felt hanging over her.

 

Grace awoke to the sound of a car’s engine, but groggily ignored it, already feeling the effects of the throbbing headache that she would be suffering from for the rest of the day. She jolted upwards when she heard the door open, and almost passed out when she saw who had entered the room. Frankie stood in the doorway, with an expression on her face that Grace couldn’t quite define, although she knew it wasn’t positive. Her best friend looked as eccentric as ever, wearing a loose flowing dress with thick brown sandals.

“Grace,” the woman uttered from the other side of the room.

“Frankie,” Grace breathed back, in complete disbelief at the sight of her old roommate. A million questions raced through her mind, but none presented themselves, as she had seemingly lost all ability to speak.

“What are you doing in my studio?” Frankie questioned, and Grace suddenly remembered where she was.

“I was just- How- I mean- W-what are you doing back here?” Grace stumbled over her words, jumping up from the sofa and trying to make herself look, and feel, more presentable.

“I got your text. As soon as I read it, I came right back,” Frankie replied softly, looking at her through sad eyes. Grace began to protest, but then the events of the night before came back to her. She started to panic as she tried to remember exactly what she had sent to her friend, but came up empty.

“What exactly did I send to you?” Grace asked cautiously, already dreading the response she would get.

“A lot of things, actually,” Frankie chuckled at an attempt to lighten the mood, but it was lost on Grace. “You said you hated that I had left you. There was a lot to unpack but the overall message was that you felt like I had abandoned you, and that you had been totally depressed since I left.” Frankie quipped, looking less angry than Grace had envisioned. Of course she had fantasised about Frankie returning home to her, but certainly had never anticipated that it would actually happen.

“I was drunk, I didn’t mean it. You shouldn't have up and left Jacob just because of me.” Grace replied defensively, but the guilt in her voice was immovable.

“I figured you were drunk, Grace. But the truth is, Santa Fe life isn’t really all it’s cracked up to be. I fucking hate it there. I was looking for an out and you gave it to me. There were no beaches, not nearly enough vibrators, and Grace, there was no you.” Frankie whispered softly.

Grace felt her knees buckling, and resisted the urge to fall back onto the sofa that had served as her bed the night before. She wanted to respond, but didn’t trust her voice not to break and reveal the cracks in her hard exterior that she had been so desperately trying to hide from everyone for the past 73 years.

“You know, Grace, there is one more thing you mentioned in your text,” Frankie spoke slowly, taking a step towards the blonde woman in front of her. “You told me you loved me,” she declared, taking another step forwards so that there was barely any space between the two women, and Grace could feel Frankie’s hot breath on her face.

Grace gulped, before leaning forwards and closing the space between them, hoping that her actions would convey what she couldn’t quite put into words. That, yes, she loved Frankie. She loved Frankie so much that it hurt. She loved Frankie with every fibre of her being, more than she had ever loved anyone before, and that she didn’t think she would ever stop loving her.

Her hands found their way to Frankie’s long, thick hair as Frankie pushed her back into the vegan leather couch. Grace fell onto it, her legs falling open with her, Frankie placed one knee on the space between her thighs, she could feel the heat her body was producing between their clothes.

Grace closed her eyes, taking in the feeling of her whole body being alive, savoring the moment she never thought she’d be lucky enough to experience outside of her dreams. 

“I’ve pictured this, fantasized about this exact thing,” Grace confesses to Frankie, her voice near a whisper, pictures of them flash through her mind. 

“I have too,” Frankie responds as her fingers find the hem of her dress. She pulled it over her head, leaving her body exposed. She hears the sharp intake of breath before her. 

“Frankie,” Grace whispers, reaching out to touch the skin Frankie has just exposed. Her fingertips dig into Frankie’s sides. “I don’t know how to do this, what do we do?” 

“Honey, we do whatever feels good,” Frankie tells her, her voice soft and deep at the same time. She looks into Grace’s eyes, sees how dark they’ve become. Her fingers take ahold of Grace’s hand, she guides it to her breast then finds the button on Grace’s jeans. “Is this what you want?” she asks, but they both know the questions holds so much more. 

Grace feels her heartbeat throughout her entire body as she nods, and waits for Frankie to do something, do anything. 

“Please, Frankie,” she moans, her hands still resting on Frankie’s skin but now she begins to move them, begins to feel the woman before her. 

Frankie’s shaky fingers help guide Grace’s tight jeans down her skinny legs, Frankie leans down between her parted knees. “Grace,” Frankie says, “It’s always been you.”


End file.
